


Hyperthermia

by Anonymous



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Angst by the metric ton, Blanket Fic, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 01:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Roy is on the Drachman border, hiding away from life. Ed finds him anyway.





	Hyperthermia

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Fullmetal_Alchemist_Kink_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Fullmetal_Alchemist_Kink_Meme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
> 
> Blanketfic, please! No matter how many fics I have read of it I can never, ever get enough! :D
> 
> EdXRoy or RoyxEd is great. Edward upward of 16, please. No side het pairings, please (no problem with side yaoi pairings). Does not have to include actual smut, but smut is very welcome, as well! 
> 
> Thank you! <3  
>  
> 
> **Note to Clichéfic Prompter Anon at Fullmetal Alchemist Kink Meme:**  
>     
> I made a big mistake. This is supposed to be a classic blanket fic. My mistake was setting it in the original anime universe. That bit where Mustang is hiding his sorry ass up north, pining for Edward, you know? I thought it would be perfect, with the cold, and the snow, and the isolated cabin, and the UST. It’s been awhile since I wrote in this universe, though, and I forgot how much angst there is, like absolute, literal, teetering _piles_ of it, and it kind of took over the story and so this isn’t actually what you asked for anymore and I’M SO SORRY! I’m posting it anyway, apologetically, and hope that you can actually read it despite the warnings.
> 
> Please accept my most sincere apologies.
> 
> Author Anon

* * *

Hyperthermia: noun  
1\. Pathology. Abnormally high fever.  
2\. Medicine/Medical. Treatment of illness by the induction of fever, as by the the application of heat.  
From Dictionary.com

* * *

 

The last of his firewood was burning low in the hearth when the pounding on his door startled Corporal Roy Mustang from his quiet musings. The storm had been raging all day and showed no signs that its end was at hand. Who could possibly be hammering on the door to this remote outpost on the Drachman border in the middle of a deadly blizzard? A desperate traveller lost in the storm? They wouldn’t find the aid they were hoping for, unfortunately, and that was one more regret Roy would have to bear.

Cracking open the door, Roy was met with possibly the greatest shock of his life.

Even muffled up against the bitter cold of the raging storm, the man was instantly recognizable. Those angry golden eyes could belong to no one else.

Edward Elric.

That unmistakable glare forced its way past a stunned Roy, out of the storm and into the tiny cabin. Glancing around at the single room bare of anything but a narrow bed, Edward began shrugging out of his winter gear. He shook snow-caked mitts from his hands. Hat and scarf hit the floor. His backpack thumped down. The dripping parka followed. Boots were kicked off into the corner where Roy’s small table used to be. All the while, Edward kept his silence. 

Roy did as well. He was shocked, to be honest, and couldn’t think of what he might do or say to break the spell. His eye was locked on his unexpected visitor, however, taking in each detail as it was revealed: the long golden hair tied up into a high, sloppy tail; the rim of red-gold stubble on a strong, tense jaw; the lean frame, taller than Roy remembered, clothed in a subdued brown vest and overcoat. Scruffy and unkempt, Edward was still the most beautiful thing Roy had ever laid eyes on. 

And this was dangerous. Roy had to keep it together. For Edward’s sake, he had to keep himself at bay, keep from tainting this amazing young man, contaminating him with Roy’s weakness, stealing his momentum. He could do it. He had been doing it for years.

Edward took stock of his former commander, glare still in place, hands on hips.

“So. It’s true,” he said, eyes locked on Roy’s. “Hawkeye told me, but up until this moment, I didn’t really believe it.”

Roy chose to ignore that. “You have chosen a terrible time to come visiting, Fullmetal,” he said, easily falling into the role with which he was so familiar when it came to his youngest subordinate. “Waiting until spring would have been a much more prudent time to come calling. Midwinter in northern Amestris is known for its unpredictable weather patterns. You’re lucky to have made it this far, particularly after being overtaken by a blizzard.”

Edward snorted. “Lucky. Judging from your spectacular accommodations, maybe you’re the lucky one.” He glanced around the near empty cabin once again, frowning.

“The weather has been such that supply routes are probably blocked,” Roy brushed the observation aside. “My provision delivery is almost three weeks overdue. As such, it appears that you and I are in the same desperate situation.” Edward raised an eyebrow. “Trapped, with no provisions.”

“Well, at least you still have a bed. And a blanket. I guess we’ll be sharing.” 

Edward’s barbed wire grin was an irritant Roy did not need. He rubbed his cheek under the eye patch, striving for calm, and went again for the misdirection.

“All this aside, what unconsidered whim could possibly have driven you to come all the way up here at this time of year? It seems an awfully long and dangerous trip to make just to trade insults with an old comrade.”

“No ‘how have you been’, or even ‘where have you been’, Roy?” Edward’s smile tilted when Roy ignored the question as well as the use of his given name, and he shrugged. “To answer _your_ question, I was in Central, looking up old friends, and heard that you were way the hell up north, contemplating your navel or something. No one could actually explain to me what was up with you, so I decided to come find out for myself.”

“This is my post,” Roy said, feigning confusion. “I would have thought that was rather obvious.”

“Yeah, the infamous Flame Alchemist, going off like a good dog without a single, solitary objection, to fade into obscurity lodged in the ass-crack of the world.” Edward rolled his eyes. “What’s really up, bastard?” 

“There is nothing ‘up’, Fullmetal, I assure you.” Roy retreated to sit on the bare floor in front of the fireplace, locking his eye on the few remaining flames.

Edward joined him, sitting down cross-legged to face Roy instead of the fire. Roy could literally feel the intensity of the younger man’s considering gaze.

“Hawkeye told me what happened,” Edward finally said. “With Pride. And to Selim Bradley. And about Archer,” the last name spat out in abject revulsion. “She told me about your trial, and how this demotion and exile thing was your idea.”

“This ‘demotion and exile thing’ was a far better option than execution.”

“As far as Hawkeye knew, that was never actually on the table. Those old generals aren’t stupid, much as I hate to admit it,” grudgingly stated. “They had to know something was seriously wrong with Bradley. They were probably relieved when someone with more guts than they had showed up to take care of their problem.” 

Roy’s eye remained on the fire, and his lips remained firmly sealed.

“You’re still held in high esteem among the rank and file,” Edward kept trying. “Hawkeye and the rest of your old command tell me that your supporters are ready to rally behind you the minute you give the word. Everyone seems to think that with your crazy-ass strategic and manipulative skill set, you could make a complete comeback any time you decide to.”

“Everyone is wrong.”

“About you making a comeback, or deciding to?”

“Both,” Roy snapped. “My bed is made.” Pointedly keeping his eye away from Edward. “Why are you here, Fullmetal?”

“Hawkeye suggested I come up here, to talk to you about coming back,” Edward said, “She seemed to believe you might listen. To me.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Roy said wryly, staring at the fire. “As I recall, the Fullmetal Alchemist was never renowned for his eloquent discourse. Quite the opposite, actually. Your style, I believe, was to punch first and ask questions later. I’m told that’s still considered your defining feature. Along with your almost legendary . . . un-tallness.” 

The lack of explosive reaction turned Roy’s head to observe the younger man. Edward was frowning, but didn’t appear to be offended by the reference to his height. That brought a frown to Roy’s face as well.

“Why are you here, bastard?” Edward asked quietly, thoughtfully, almost tenderly.

Dangerous.

“It’s quite obvious, Fullmetal,” Roy stated, coldly condescending. “This is my assignment. I was demoted to corporal and assigned to man this outpost. I’m not surprised that you are having difficulty understanding it; the concept of following orders was something that you always struggled with.” 

“Like you didn’t?” Edward shot back, heated. “You were as bad as me. Even worse, probably. Just sneakier about it.”

Roy couldn’t actually deny it, but agreeing would not advance this argument to a safe conclusion. “What?” The smirk came easily to his lips. “Was that a compliment, Fullmetal? Careful. You might give me the impression that you actually like me.”

“Like you?” Edward murmured. “No. Like is definitely not the word I would use.”

That stung. “Well, you certainly display your hatred in an oddly kind and considerate manner,” Roy noted briskly. 

“Not hate either. That’s even farther off the mark.”

Roy’s alarms were signaling for a strategic retreat, so he sighed heavily. “As much fun as this little guessing game might be,” he said in a tone that indicated the exact opposite, “we have other, more pressing concerns to occupy us. For example, we are currently burning the last of our firewood, and our supply of food is also exhausted, as is our fresh water. Perhaps we can play later, when our survival is a less tenuous proposition.”

Edward’s gaze sharpened, and Roy suddenly realized: Edward had grown up. He was not an oblivious sixteen-year-old anymore. He had matured. He was aware that his opponent was attempting a misdirection, easily able to see that the sniping and needling and prodding was just smoke behind which Roy was hiding. Worse, he might now have an idea about _what_ Roy had been hiding, all this time. 

This was far more dangerous than Roy had first thought. How cruel that fate should send Edward here today, of all days.

“Yeah, about that. What the hell is going on, here, Mustang?” Edward waved an irate hand to the empty room, the fire dying in the hearth and not a twig of firewood to revive it. “No food. No water. No fuel. You burned all the furniture, except for the bed. What the hell are you up to?”

Shit. Bringing that up had been a grave tactical error. Would Edward realize what Roy had planned? Judging by the young man’s dismayed frown, it was clear that Edward had, at the very least, guessed.

Rising with fluid grace, Edward paced to the other side of the cabin, staring out through the frost rimmed window with an angry bearing. 

"I don't understand," he said tightly, and Roy rose without thinking, crossing to stand at Edward's side. “You were always so strong. It was a strength I relied on, although I wouldn’t have admitted it to save my life at the time.” His smile was grim, eyes on the wind driven snow. The smile slipped away. “I don’t understand,” he said again.

So, he had figured it out. Roy didn’t try to explain. Instead he stood quietly taking in the face he had never expected to see again. It was almost hypnotic, watching the dimming firelight shifting over Edward's features, amber on gold, sunset on desert sand. It was intimate in a way that should have sent Roy back to his seat by the fire, but he held his ground. He could do this, do the right thing, without being any more of a coward than he already was. Continuing this farce would only be an insult to Edward’s intelligence, and a waste of Roy’s time. 

"I was never strong," Roy said softly, “I tried to be. For Maes, but I wasn’t there when he needed me. For Riza, but I have let her down, now, too. And . . . for you. You needed a rock, an anchor, something stable to ground you, so that’s what I became for you. It was the only thing I could offer.” 

Roy laid a hesitant hand on Edward's shoulder, as much for Edward’s comfort as his own. Edward turned to face him with a considering gaze, lashes dipping as he searched Roy's face. Roy let his hand drop to his side, face deliberately neutral, Edward’s warmth a memory on his palm. He could do this. He could hold it together.

Roy offered a wry smile.

And found it claimed in a kiss. He barely noticed as Edward nudged him backwards, away from the window and the storm raging beyond; he was far more concerned with the heat of Edward's mouth, the warmth of confident hands that were sliding up the neatly-buttoned jacket of his uniform. He was gasping when Edward let them come up for air, Roy’s own hands wrapped tightly around the other man's biceps, pulling Edward closer instead of pushing him away as he so definitely should.

It was all too obvious that Roy had already lost this battle, but still, he had to try.

“Edward,” he breathed, looking into glittering gold. “We-”

“Don’t,” Edward warned softly.

Roy ignored the warning. “I’m fourteen years your senior.” 

“We’re both adults,” Edward pointed out.

“I was your superior officer.”

"I outrank you now, Corporal." Edward’s voice was a low purr.

"Perhaps . . . I’m not interested," Roy protested weakly.

Edward laughed, low and rough, a feral sound that sparked something warm in Roy's chest, a heat that spread to places far more interesting as Edward pulled Roy down to kiss him again. Roy’s jacket wasn't neatly-buttoned now, with Edward's hands roaming under it, but that was really the last thing on Roy’s mind at the moment.

Roy heard himself moan as Edward's mouth pulled away from his, a stubbled cheek nudging his own as warm lips found Roy’s neck and that sensitive place just below his ear. Roy's hands had decided it was a good idea to explore the fastenings of Edward's somewhat unusual clothing, finding warm skin underneath. Scruffy or not, the man was incredible as he shrugged out of his overcoat and waistcoat, his shirt following as Roy fumbled with his uniform. Lean and scarred, Edward was sun-darkened skin over battle-toned muscle, the steel gray of his automail gilded by the light of the dying fire. Roy was surprised at the intensity of his hunger for this man; his heart had been frozen for so many, many years.

"I think I can safely assume that you’re interested," Edward said softly, a slow smile building. "Would you care to toss out any more bullshit objections, Roy? Or can we both have what we really want?"

Edward correctly took Roy’s silence as permission to ease him backward and onto the bed. In no time at all Roy was lying passively, boots off, belt undone, and then he lost track of everything except for the burning hot trail left by Edward's mouth as he made his careful way down Roy’s chest. A tongue traced into his navel, and Roy arched up to meet that teasing stroke, hungry for its promise. He had no idea where the rest of his clothes had gone, but Edward was kissing downward, his warm breath sighing across the length of Roy's shaft.

"You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this. Of you," Edward said lowly, taking Roy in hand and running his tongue from root to head, then back again as Roy bucked and whimpered.

"I thought you were gone forever," Roy managed, hands fisting in the sheets as Edward’s tongue flicked in all the right ways.

"I’m here," Edward said softly, and Roy felt a surge of desperate longing.

The mouth that took Roy in and slid downward was a furnace, the fluid stroke of tongue made him bite his lip and rock helplessly up into the hands that were holding him down. Edward's hair tickled at his thighs, and Roy was hard pressed not to come on the spot. He soon had Edward’s dubious assistance; he would ease off every time Roy got too close, before starting again. It wasn’t long before Roy was begging without shame, and Edward finally took pity upon him. 

It took an embarrassingly long moment for the sharp sound of a clap to make sense. Then slick fingers were pushing slowly inside, stroking lightly over a place that made Roy’s eyes roll back, and Roy wondered briefly what Edward had transmuted into their lubricant. 

"Roll over," the younger man urged.

Roy finally managed to turn himself over and rise to his knees, Edward's fingers never leaving him, working him gently open. When they did, he had only a moment to wish for their return before Edward was sliding into him, one long, slow thrust that didn't end until lean hips met his flank, and Roy moaned lowly.

Edward rumbled something unintelligible as his hand slid down Roy's sides, fingers tightening on Roy’s hips as he eased out and thrust in again. They fit together perfectly, and Roy had to wonder if this might be some cruel dream from which he could at any moment awake, cold and alone. That notion was burned from his mind by the way Edward was touching him; one warm hand and one cool, tracing meaningless patterns on his skin bringing proof to this reality. Edward reached to close a tight fist around Roy's desperate length, stroking in time with the thrusts that were melting his spine. All Roy could do was rock himself back into Edward's methodical strokes, clamping tightly with inner muscles for the sheer joy of hearing Edward curse, ragged and reverent.

He was close, so, so close, and he turned his face into the thin mattress so as not to sob his relief aloud. The world went white around him when Edward did something amazing with his hands, overwhelming him with sensation, his peak finally, gloriously reached, and then . . .

When he came back to himself Roy realized he must have passed out. For one disconnected moment he thought it had been nothing more than a desperate dream after all. Then he realized that he was wrapped in another's arms, his head pillowed on Edward's chest. The hand stroking absently through his hair soothed him, and he found himself nearly purring.

"Awake?" Edward asked, and Roy decided he could be forgiven the smugness in his tone, just this once.

"I certainly hope so," Roy answered dryly, though he couldn't help smiling as he said it. 

Edward just laughed quietly and let him be. Roy was grateful, needing a few moments to regain his equilibrium, feasting his eye on the rousing sight laid out before him. Lying twined together like this was something Roy had only ever allowed himself the luxury of imaging in his weakest moments, and the reality went far beyond anything his mind could conjure. The contrast of his smooth paleness against Edward's sun-kissed, scar littered skin stirred up feelings in Roy of which he had always believed himself incapable. 

And some of which he was all too capable. Despite his exhaustion, he was tempted to hint that he might be up for another round, wherein he would most definitely be taking the driver’s seat, when Edward suddenly stilled under him.

"What is it?"

"The wind has died down," the younger man said, and Roy lifted his head to find Edward staring at nothing, head cocked to listen. "I think the storm might be over."

“That doesn’t mean we are in the clear,” Roy cautioned. “It will be some days before supply lines are re-established, possibly weeks before someone arrives who can take you back to North City.”

“Us.” Edward stated most unequivocally. “Take _us_ back. I’m staying with you, here, or where ever else you decide to be.”

“Us, then,” Roy said, voice momentarily rough. He cleared his throat. “My point is that we are still trapped here.”

"Is that a bad thing?"

“Without food, fuel, water . . .”

“I have some food in my pack, and I can hunt for more. I hope you’re not too attached to that tree by the porch, because one good clap is all I’ll need to get it ready for the fireplace. And our water is piled up all over the countryside.” Edward levered himself up onto an elbow to look down into Roy’s eye. “We can stay here for as long as you need.” 

It was Edward’s quiet conviction that melted away the remains of Roy’s battered walls of ice at last. The words burned in his chest, seeking release, and release them he did. 

“After the battle with Pride, I . . . narrowly avoided execution, regardless of what Hawkeye may think. The Council of Generals was fairly certain that I had done away with our illustrious leader,” Roy’s sarcasm was tinted with disgust, “but couldn’t prove it. They jumped at my suggestion of a severely punitive demotion and transfer, officially for failing in my duty to protect the Führer. For pride’s sake, I chose this, a more honorable end than execution; but an end was what I sought.”

Edward said nothing, but his arm tightened almost imperceptibly around Roy’s shoulders.

Roy took a moment to collect himself before continuing. “I had nothing left to live for. Maes was dead, and without his steady friendship I felt lost. With a single eye, my depth perception was gone, and with it, my alchemy. My dreams of leading this country into a better future were shattered. No way to atone for all the . . . horrible things I have done. In a single day I lost my life’s work, my future, and . . . you.”

Edward remained quiet, but the steady beat of his heart under Roy’s ear was soothing. Roy’s voice was soft when he spoke again.

“I had watched you run away that day, sure we would meet again, only to discover that I had let you run alone to your death, or so I thought. I had let you down, just like I had let Maes down. I was devastated, numb right through. I thought it would be easy to just fade away, here, in a place as frozen as I was. And one day, if it should be discovered that I had taken ill and frozen to death at my post, well, who would be left to care?”

“Is that what this was supposed to look like?” Edward asked quietly, without pity. “The sick man, isolated by bad weather, food running out, too weak to chop wood, using his furniture to fuel his fire, until it finally flickered out? Were you going to crawl into bed tonight and just let go?”

“I didn’t want my old crew to know what a coward I really was,” Roy nodded, ashamed. “and I had nothing left to hold onto.”

“Well, now you can hold on to me,” Edward murmured and lay back, arms tight for a moment around Roy’s shoulders. “You know, the first thing I did when I got back was go find Alphonse. I had to know if the transmutation actually worked.”

Roy nodded, deciding to find out exactly where Edward had come back from later.

“The second thing I did was come looking for you.” Edward stroked his warm hand up Roy’s arm and back down, idly. “Because I had a lot of time to think, the last couple of years, and aside from Al, most of what I thought about was you. And I realized a few things.”

Roy closed his eyes and waited, a small smile on his face.

“First of all, I realized that all the flailing and fighting on my end had a lot more to do with frustration than anger. I had feelings for you, but I didn’t _want_ to have feelings for you, and every time I had to deal with you, those feelings got stronger.” Edward swatted Roy’s shoulder in response to his low chuckle. “I . . . kinda had the hots for you since, oh, right around the time puberty hit I guess. Shut up, bastard!”

Roy choked back his laugh with difficulty. “Sorry, go on, Edward.”

When the younger man did not, Roy lifted his head to meet his eyes. A very peculiar expression graced Edward’s features. 

“I think . . . that’s the first time you have ever called me by my actual name,” he finally said, voice a little uneven.

Roy thought about it and decided that this was quite possibly true. It would not be the last time. It felt good, rolling off his tongue. He lay his head back down on Edward’s chest to wait for the rest of his former subordinate’s revelation.

Edward cleared his throat. “The second thing I realized was that all the snark and snarl on your side was about something else, too.”

It was time to come clean. Edward’s honesty deserved to be returned in kind. 

“Believe it or not, my motivation has always been your welfare.” Roy smoothed his hand over Edward’s trim hip. “When you won your title and commission as a State Alchemist, I had to come up with a plan to keep you safe under my control. Your history guaranteed that attempting to set myself up as a father figure would surely backfire. I decided that if I couldn’t gain your respect as a trusted mentor, I would earn it the hard way, by making our every interaction into a competition.” Roy sighed. “I certainly didn’t expect a twelve-year-old to be such a worthy opponent, nor did I expect to enjoy our interactions as much as I did. Imagine my surprise when this broken old soldier later discovered that he had come to care for his bright young subordinate a little too much.” 

“I don’t have to imagine it. This hyperdistuctive brat got pretty much that same surprise,” Edward said with a quiet laugh. “You realize, of course, that ‘broken old soldier with nothing to live for’ bullshit is over.”

“I suppose.”

Edward levered himslf up to glare, outraged. “You suppose! You had better do more than suppose, bastard, or I’ll be kicking your sorry, supposing ass all the way back to Central!”

The man continued to rant until the fire suddenly guttered out completely, plunging the cabin into deeper darkness. The cold began to close in around the lounging pair as well, creeping over naked, sweat-cooled skin.

“Shit,” Edward growled as he started to shift off the bed.

Roy’s arm tightened around him, holding him in place. “Leave it for now,” he said softly. “We’ll be warm enough here for a while, together.”

As Edward settled back down to wrap him in his arms again, Roy decided that being trapped here in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t be so bad for the time being. He needed time to heal, and with Edward by his side this was as good a place as any to do so. In fact, anywhere would be fine as long as Edward was there too. Roy settled his head back down on his lover’s chest as the young man flicked the covers over them. Their combined heat soon warmed them to a perfectly comfortable degree. 

There were plans to be made, both short term and long. But first, sleep. There was plenty of time, now, for everything and anything, though it wouldn’t be an easy road. 

But even that felt right, somehow.

For the first time in a long time, Roy could see into a future he looked forward to.


End file.
